


Evermore - Darkiplier Version

by The_Magical_Meg_Marie



Category: A Heist With Markiplier (Web Series), Markiplier TV (Web Series), Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Actor Mark, Darkiplier - Freeform, Dreams, Evermore - Freeform, Gen, Markiplier - Freeform, One Shot, Pining, Romance, WKM, hwm, lol what am i doing, still don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:27:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29049897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Magical_Meg_Marie/pseuds/The_Magical_Meg_Marie
Summary: I'll never shake away the painI close my eyes but she's still thereI let her steal into my melancholy heartIt's more than I can bearHe had found her too late. It was always too late....Same snake...different skin...
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Reader, Mark Fischbach/Y/N | The District Attorney, Mark Fischbach/You, Mark Iplier (A Heist With Markiplier) & You, Mark Iplier (A Heist With Markiplier)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Evermore - Darkiplier Version

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted on my tumblr https://iflostreturntoflynnrider.tumblr.com/
> 
> I usually post there before I post here

I was the one who had it ll  
I was the master of my fate  
I never needed anybody in my life  
I learned the truth too late

The Manor had been quiet for years. Ever since the...incident. It had been silent...and kept hidden as well. You see, there was a certain...entity that, despite the fact he did not often reside there, did not wish to see an outsider's soul on the premises. To the locals, it was haunted. The old groundskeeper had done well starting that rumor all those years ago. The amount of owners that had died on the property. The incident itself. The rumors protected the Manor and it remained untouched by the hands of time.

All thanks to him. 

He had lost everything. All thanks to Mark. Mark who just had to fake his own death and take everyone down with him. Mark who had trapped him in this shell of a body. Mark, whose actions had driven the Colonel mad. Mark who had taken you...

He had it in his plans all along. He had known that you were with him--no, Damien. But apparently, if your best friend steals your wife it's alright to try and steal someone else's love. 

He had orchestrated the entire thing. Mark had planned everything down to the most minute detail. The simplicity of his "death" would drive all the others mad. First, the Colonel, driven mad by the guilt of his own actions. The detective would be no help. They were both trigger happy, put them both in a room full of high tensions and overwhelming emotion and the guns would be drawn within minutes. Damien would try to step in and would fail thus resulting in his removal from the situation. Then, either the Colonel or the Detective. After that, who knew. Maybe Mark planned to make a miraculous return and pass it off as a fluke. He most likely planned to swoop in and save the "damsel in distress".

That absolute monster.

But he didn't plan on the monkey wrench. He never counted on Celine showing up. Mark's ex-wife, Damien's sister, the Colonel's lover. She had proved to be the only person who could have possibly made a difference in the situation.

And the only reason that Dark was even there. 

I'll never shake away the pain  
I close my eyes but she's still there  
I let her steal into my melancholy heart  
It's more than I can bear

In a sense, Mark had succeeded. Not in that life. He hadn't gotten you then. The Colonel had accidentally made sure of that. Dark didn't blame his old friend. 

No, Mark went on after the events at the Manor to dabble in things that he could barely understand. Somehow, he, after all those years, had regained memories, knowledge from a lifetime long past.

He went right for you. You were always a variable. The thing Mark obsessed over. The one Dark loved. 

Yes, loved. He had kept an eye on you, the moment he realized you were alive--or, rather, that your soul had returned. You looked like you had back then, but, unlike Mark, you had no memories of who you were back then. Besides, Dark had found you too late. Mark had gotten to you first, and wormed his way in.

Same snake. Different skin. 

Now I know she'll never leave me  
Even as she runs away  
She will still torment me  
Calm me, hurt me  
Move me, come what may  
Wasting in my lonely tower  
Waiting by an open door  
I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in  
And be with me for evermore

"I had always thought you to be trapped in his games."

"Perhaps we've met before. You just don't remember it."

You'd been hearing the voice for a while. You can't quite pinpoint when it made its first appearance in your dreams. You feel as if you've known this voice for far longer than when it made itself known the first time.

You didn't know who the voice belonged to. You never saw the source. 

The voice just seemed to come from everywhere at once. 

It wasn't a bad thing, in a way it almost reminded you of that song in Sleeping Beauty.

You never mentioned it to Mark. Well, you had once. He had insisted that it was a figment of your imagination. Or a demon. He had been so adamant to convince you that it was bad. It had been intense.

So, you simply agreed with him. He was your best friend. He was usually so calm and relaxed that you were surprised something would shake him. 

He had asked about the voice a few months later. He had asked if you were still hearing the voice. You told him no. A few more months, and he asked again. You pretended like you didn't remember. 

He seemed an odd sense of both pleased and relieved and didn't bring it up again.

After all, your voice didn't seem like it liked Mark either. Never mentioned him by name, but you knew when the voice was talking about your best friend due to the animosity. As if Mark was everything wrong with the world. 

So you kept those two separated. You didn't discuss the voice with Mark. And you didn't discuss Mark with the voice.

It was your secret.

However, Mark's actions concerning the voice had left a rather bad taste in your mouth. You had felt as if there was something else to it. Something sinister. So unlike the best friend you had known. You started picking up on more and more things that set off little red flags after that. Nothing that set off major flags, but more like little ones dotted everywhere. As if Mark had a more sinister side to him that you weren't supposed to notice.

As if he knew more than you about something.

What had your voice said? "Same snake, different skin"?

Did Mark have something he wasn't telling you.

You began distancing yourself the best you could. And, the more you distanced yourself, the stronger your connection to the voice got. You still had no clue who it was, but you started seeing things. Not much. And never at moments when the voice could be heard. You could see little snippets of things. And there was always someone with you, though you couldn’t see them. They did leave you feeling, well, feeling loved. 

It made no sense to you at first. But eventually, you started seeing more. A house, well, more of a castle really. 

You started researching. 

I rage against the trials of love  
I curse the fading of the light  
Though she's already flown so far beyond my reach  
She's never out of sight

Dark rarely visited the manor. Prefering to while away his time in the Void, even if that damned glitch was there. Yet, he began to linger in the past, reminiscing in a sense. 

In all honesty, he just felt as if he had to be there, like it was the only way to be near you. He had been unable to reach you in your dreams as he always did. It was as if you seperating yourself from Mark had also separated him from you. Or there was something else keeping him away.

He stopped in front of the mirror. He kept the manor in impeccable condition, save for two things. 

Firstly, Mark's room had been all but obliterated. Not a single thing remained that tied Mark to the Manor. The room was a hair's breadth away from being an open gateway to the void. He had stripped it. Borderline eviscerated it.

The only other thing being the mirror. It remained shattered. A blatant symbol of that day.

A blatant reminder of the you that he had left in the past. A you that was slowly fading from his memory. Your soul may have been reborn, but as far as he knew, you weren't the you he had known.

Now I know she'll never leave me  
Even as she fades from view  
She will still inspire me  
Be a part of everything I do  
Wasting in my lonely tower  
Waiting by an open door  
I'll fool myself, she'll walk right in  
And as the long, long nights begin  
I'll think of all that might have been  
Waiting here for evermore

You had found it. An overgrown pathway buried in foliage. It had taken what felt like ages to get even that much. The locals had all but ran screaming when you showed up asking about what you had quickly learned was called "The Manor''. Their superstitions and ghost stories, despite how terrifying they were, didn't deter you. It had taken you almost half a year to get to where you were standing and you knew for a fact that it had something to do with your voice. The times he spoke to you were now few and far between. As if he was pulling away.

Eventually, the odd little path opened up into an impeccable grounds area. A sprawling mansion that took the breath from you. And seemed rather...familiar. It was as if you had been there before. Your feet moved without thought, as if the walk to the front door was second nature. You opened the door without knocking and hazy thoughts drifted through your head. 

You knew there was a wine cellar beneath your feet somewhere.

Someone had once stood on that staircase.

You had played poker in that room.

Slept in a bedroom up that staircase.

And toppled over that balcony...after being shot by...the Colonel...Wilford Warfstache...

And there had been a death...no four...before yours....Celine...Abe.....Mark.......and--

"How did you get here?"

You turned to look over the balcony you had walked to subconsciously. It was your voice.

Grey suit. Grey skin. Shades of red and blue at the edges of it all as if he was holding his soul in place. A face that you recognized. 

"Damien?" You asked.

"Not entirely, my dear." He stopped at the foot of the stair, one hand outstretched, waiting for you to take it. "Allow me to explain."

**Author's Note:**

> The amount of research I did for this. I rewatched Who Killed Markiplier, redid both A Date With Markiplier, and also a Heist With Markiplier. I went back and rewatched Damien. But oooh, do I like this. Took longer than I thought it would though lol.
> 
> It's almost 2k words and I had no clue how to add more. I like the way it ended though. I’m probably gonna write a soft little fic for Damien next. Something that takes place in Who Killed Markiplier, not sure when though
> 
> As always, shoot me little ideas if you have any. I’m not taking requests but sometimes I get inspired.


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